


(Aren't You) Supposed to be the Hero of the Story?

by MadMothMadame



Series: Friends are the Family You Choose [3]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis, 幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Gen, I Love You, It's not permanent, None of these fics are as happy as the first, Ryoma's friend died, SO, This one's kinda really sad, also this one is longer, but don't worry, but uh, cuz that's how this show goes, if anyone has made it this far
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 07:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20596823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadMothMadame/pseuds/MadMothMadame
Summary: Ryoma has never fought with a friend before, but he's pretty sure Yusuke wouldn't ignore him forever, right?





	(Aren't You) Supposed to be the Hero of the Story?

Ryoma was having a pretty shitty day. 

He had slept through his alarm and was late to class. He had been assigned cleaning duties as a result, which was an unfamiliar phenomenon. Back in the States, being late was usually not a big deal, but here you would have thought the world was ending because he was five minutes late.

Class was boring and he was distracted. Usually, Ryoma spent most of the day thinking of either tennis or Karupin, but not today. Today, he couldn't stop thinking of the look on Yusuke’s face the day before, right before he had turned away from Momoshiro and himself.

He had spent at least an hour hitting a tennis ball against a wall. He had then stalked home, casually swinging by some of Yusuke’s usual haunts. He had only known the other boy for a few weeks, but he already knew Yusuke’s favorite tree in the park, the arcade he hung out in, the alleys he owned and the roads he liked to wander.

He didn't find him, so Ryoma headed home. Usually, Yusuke would show up before dark and they would go for a run. The other boy had been by at least once every couple days, and it had been three days since their last run.

It hadn't even occurred to him that he didn't have any way to contact the other boy. He wasn't even sure if he had a phone at all.

Ryoma hadn't really expected him to come. But he’d still stayed up later than he should have, messing around on the tennis court on the temple grounds until very late.

Hence oversleeping.

Lunch saw his classmates, Harioo, Hamio, or something, Ryoma still wasn’t really sure what the loud, annoying one’s name was, and the other two who were pretty interchangeable in Ryoma’s mind, but all three of them spent half the lunch period pestering him. His mood was only made worse when Momo tried to corner him.

Ryoma ignored him, and vanished to the roof for a nap. Turned out to be the best part of his day, as tennis club had more ranking matches, but Ryoma's next match wasn't until the next day, so it was pretty boring watching most of the matches. A couple of the regulars had matches, but even they were not as exciting as he had been hoping and he quickly decided to take another nap.

He hadn’t even managed to fall asleep before Oishi-senpai caught him. Apparently, napping during their matches was not very supportive of his teammates, which had him running laps. For what felt like forever. He was still working on this whole ‘team’ thing.

He had walked home. Momo had tried to walk with him, but Ryoma was still fuming. He hopped the fence and took the back alleys home.

His dad was no more annoying than usual, but his mom was out of town again, so he had spent most of the night looking at porn and generally being lazy. Ryoma spent the night bouncing tennis balls against a wall and playing halfheartedly with Karupin.

Yusuke didn't come by that night.

-

The next day was a little better. At least he'd gotten to play.

The game had been annoying though. Inui's style of tennis was not one Echizen had encountered before. Collecting data on players and then remembering enough of it to use it effectively against opponents seemed more trouble than it was worth. Ryoma barely bothered to remember people's names, much less every minute detail about them. It had been interesting though. Almost like playing a mirror image of himself, who could predict what he would do before he did it. 

Ryoma was used to that. It was like playing his dad, only without the annoying taunting.

It was only something Yusuke had showed him the week before that let Ryoma up the pace enough that Inui couldn't keep up.

Yusuke very rarely stopped moving during their runs. It irked Ryoma that he needed to break more than the older boy. Yusuke called a halts often for his benefit, but he always said it was "to enjoy the view" or something. Ryoma didn't buy it, especially since Yusuke spent the whole time bouncing. Eventually, Ryoma had asked why.

"A couple of reasons," Yusuke answered as Ryoma tried to catch his breath, "For one thing, it keeps my heart rate up, so I don't have to start over when I need to sprint again. But mostly it's for fighting."

Ryoma made a questioning noise.

"In a fight, you need to be able to react to your opponent. If I'm already in motion, I can dodge faster. It's mostly used in boxing, cuz it lets you pivot on a dime."

Ryoma's thoughts were never too far from tennis and he immediately saw the applicability. 

"Show me."

Yusuke had seemed surprised, as he always did whenever Ryoma asked him for help, but obliged.

"You have to keep your center of gravity higher than you usually would, all the way up in your shoulders," he explained, and watched as Ryoma tried. It was a weird feeling, but he could immediately feel the different. His heels wanted to lift off the ground. "Like that, but bend your knees a bit more and lean forward to keep the line of gravity going straight from your head to your toes."

Ryoma did.

"Now bounce. Once you get a good rhythm going, you should be able to pivot quickly."

Bouncing on his toes, Yusuke demonstrated, quickly hopping from side to side, every once in a while jabbing forward as though punching an imaginary foe. 

He was so quick. Ryoma resolved to bounce like that whenever he wasn't moving. It didn't help him catch his breath though, and he had to stop pretty quickly.

Yusuke smiled at him.

"Keep it up, kid. Pretty soon you'll be able to do it indefinitely."

Yusuke had been right and it had been Inui's downfall. Ryoma wanted to tell the older boy about it. He thought Yusuke might be, he didn't know, impressed or something.

Ryoma played a round with his dad that night, asking for rematch after rematch, hoping Yusuke would come by. 

He didn't.

It had been two days now.

-

The next day was weird. Ryoma was officially announced as a Regular, which gave him an oddly intense feeling of pride.

He had never really belonged to a team before.

Then Inui showed up and ruined it.

Inui Juice™, as it was horrifically known, was not food, no matter what his bespeckled senpai said.

Ryoma's stomach rebelled the whole walk home, and all there was to look forward to the next day was more drills and Juice.

He was kinda sick just thinking about it.

At least his mom was home that evening, and even cooked him Japanese food for dinner when she saw how wretched he was feeling. His dad offered to play, but they only did one set before Ryoma asked to call it a night, still not feeling 100%. His dad could tell, obviously, and let him go with minimal ribbing.

“Not running tonight, brat?” he asked, and Ryoma shook his head. It was already late. If Yusuke was going to show up, he would have done it already. Ryoma went to bed frustrated and not really knowing why.

It had been three days since he had seen Yusuke. He was starting to get a bad feeling about the whole thing.

-

Finally Friday came along. Ryoma was more than ready for a weekend. Most of his classmates had extra classes that they took on Saturday, but Ryoma was very attached to his two days of sleeping in, so Friday held significant appeal.

He was even early to school, since his mom decided to drop him off. His teacher, Mr. Imato, was duly surprised, but Ryoma was too sleepy to notice. 

The day seemed to drag on, but at least they had a physics lab that was somewhat interesting. Inui-senpai had been in the back corner of the lab, being creepy. Ryoma wondered how he didn't get in trouble for skipping class. Yusuke always complained about that stuff.

Thinking of Yusuke was odd. Ryoma wasn't used to having anything other than tennis so close to the forefront of his mind.

The day was going by quickly. He spent lunch on the roof. Ryoma wasn't particularly tired, so he didn't nap, but it was nice to get away from people for a while.

Tennis club that day had him paired up with Momoshiro as his opponent. He didn't handle it with as much grace as he could have, but it had been a week since he'd gotten to go running with Yusuke, and it was entirely the older boys fault.

He had been mean to Ryoma’s friend, and Ryoma didn't have many. He was ruthless.

He went all out from the start. By the end of their match, Momo looked ready to throw up from over exhaustion. The older power player had barely gotten a point off him all day.Their playing had attracted quite a crowd, but it didn't make Ryoma feel any better. He stalked off the court without offering a handshake.

Momo might have called after him, but Echizen didn't hear him. He upended most of his water on his head and shook it vigorously, trying to clear his head and cool down. He hadn't realized he was so angry at the older boy.

Oishi-senpai pulled him aside as he left the court.

“Everything ok, Echizen-kun?” Oishi-senpai asked.

“Yes,” Ryoma answered, hoping to leave it at that, but Oishi wasn't finished.

“Did something happen with you and Momoshiro?” he pressed.

Ryoma just shook his head and pulled his cap down further over his eyes. He really didn't want to talk about it.

“Okay,” the older boy sounded hesitant to let the matter rest, but he didn't stop Ryoma as the younger boy went to do drills with the rest of the freshman. Repetitive motion was always good for clearing his mind.

He didn't see the upset look Momoshiro sent him, or the concerned glances from the rest of the regulars. Friction in the team this early in the year wasn't a good sign.

Oishi called Momo over to ask him about it, but the other boys just shrugged helplessly. Under Oishi-senpai’s compassionate look, he felt even more ashamed then he had been before about how he’d treated Urameshi. It hadn’t even occurred to him until too late that he and Echizen might have been friends, hadn’t listened to Echizen’s insistence. He should have had the attitude “any friend of a friend is a friend of mine”, but he hadn't. He didn't want to admit that to an upperclassman he looked up to.

Oishi wasn't fooled.

“Whatever it was, you need to sort it out. You can't let it affect the team.”

“I know,” Momo replied, still looking forlornly at the freshmen, “But I'm not sure how. He won't talk to me.”

Smiling reassuringly, Oishi clapped the junior on the shoulder and said, “I'm sure you'll figure it out.”

He waited until Momoshiro nodded before sending him off to go stretch and cool down. Echizen had done a number on him. He'd be no use to anyone for the rest of the day.

For Ryoma's part, the rest of tennis practice was just as tedious as the last few days. This was not helped by the fact that the other freshmen were still annoying, even more so than usual because they spent more time talking then tidying the courts, so they were there until nearly dark. He was more than ready to get home by the time they were finished. 

It was close to the time Yusuke tended to drop by. Ryoma didn't want to miss him.

Momoshiro was waiting for him by the gate with his bike.

“Want a ride?” Momo asked.

Ryoma almost refused, but riding on the back of Momo’s bike was considerably faster than walking, and he wanted to get home.

He nodded curtly, and hopped on the back of the bike as Momo took off, waving at the bewildered freshmen watching them go.

They didn't talk for the whole ride as Momo went passed his own house and on to Ryoma’s. 

Ryoma offered a curt “thanks” when they got there and went to head inside.

“Echizen,” Momo’s voice stopped him.

Ryoma didn't bother to turn back, just looked over his shoulder at the older boy.

“I'm sorry.”

Ryoma turned around to face the older boy, no expression on his face.

“You were right. I was way out of line. If you say Urameshi’s a friend of yours, I shouldn't have questioned it.”

For a moment, Ryoma didn't say anything. Momo was being sincere, that was plain.

“... I haven't seen him since then.”

“Is that weird?” Momo asked, no judgement, just curious.

Ryoma nodded.

“Is he alright?”

Shrugging, Ryoma looked away from the other boy, conceding that maybe it was weird. Yusuke was a lot of things, but a coward was certainly not one of them. He wouldn't avoid a situation because he thought it might be awkward. And he had never been away this long before.

But then, Ryoma had only know the other boy a few months. And Ryoma rarely noticed anybody’s absence. Maybe Yusuke was the same. Maybe it was normal.

“Bummer,” Momo said, looking downtrodden and maybe a little guilty. He didn't say anything for a bit. The silence dragged on until Ryoma decided to head inside.

“Hey, Echizen.”

He stopped again, hand on the gate.

“We're okay right?”

“... Mada mada dane,” he said and tossed a grin over his shoulder. 

Momo smiled back. He kicked up his kickstand and turned the bike on its back wheel.

“See you Monday!” he called as he rode off.

Yusuke still didn't come by that night.

-

Ryoma slept in on Saturday. It was past noon by the time he ventured downstairs, Karupin twinning between his feet. His cousin Nanako was in the kitchen. She scolded him gently for sleeping so late, but his mom contradicted her.

“Ryoma's been out late recently. He goes out with a friend. They don't usually get back until midnight. He needs the sleep,” she said as she dropped a plate of reheated breakfast in front of him and kissed his hair. 

He scowled, both at the kiss and the mention of Yusuke. 

“That late?” his cousin asked, aghast. “Aren't you worried?”

“Not really. He's always been very independent, and his friend seemed nice enough when I talked to him.”

“You've talked to Yusuke? When?” Ryoma asked, wide awake now. His mother looked over, surprised at her usually reticent son’s outburst.

“A few weeks ago.”

Ryoma deflated. He went back to sullenly moving his food around the plate.

“But surely you worry?” His cousin asked. 

His mom shook her head.

“Why would I? I'm just happy he’s making friends.”

And all of the sudden, Ryoma wasn't hungry anymore. He stood up abruptly. 

“Ryoma?”

“I'm not hungry.”

He headed outside, grabbing his tennis bag from beside the front door as he left.

He hit up the street court first. He and Yusuke had discovered it weeks ago and he'd been meaning to come by and see if he could drum up some worthy competition. 

He couldn't. Though the courts were actually full, they were full of mostly amature players; no one serious. 

He didn't stay long. He wandered around for a bit, stopped by Yusuke’s favorite places, just in case, but didn't find him.

He went home early, did his homework, played a bit with his cat, and went to bed.

-

He spend all of Sunday at home. Yusuke still didn't come by.

That made a week now.

-

Come Monday, Ryoma was self aware enough to recognize that he was thoroughly distracted. Class had never held his interest, but today it was especially arduous. He kept looking out the window, as if expecting Yusuke to pop out of the bushes or something. 

He could also recognize that he was worried now.

Yusuke had been something of a constant presence since he'd moved to Japan in a way that Ryoma hadn't really noticed at the time. A lot had changed in the last few months for him, and Yusuke had always sort of been around. He was a welcome distraction from the chaos of the move and the enrollment and placement tests. Yusuke was the sort of person that demanded all of your attention whenever you were with him. Even Ryoma, with an interest level notoriously hard to pique, had been pulled in.

If class was bad, practise had been tragic.

Ryoma received bewildered looks from his own classmates, concerned looks from some of the sempai, and _many_ laps from Tezuka-boucho after the captain had to call his name three times to get his attention. His game wasn't too badly affected, and the drills they were doing were things he could do in his sleep. He never missed a shot, but his head wasn't in it.

Considering how hard it usually was to get him to stop thinking about tennis, the change was obvious.

By the time they were given the order to cool off and pack it up, Ryoma was feeling restless. He rushed through clean up, doing significantly more than his share to finish early.

Momo was waiting for him again.

“Hey, Echizen,” he greeted Ryoma, before turning to the other freshmen, “See you tomorrow, freshman-tachi. Don't forget to do your 50 swings.”

It was a blatant dismissal, but the freshman took it well, waving amicably at them as they went by, promising to catch up tomorrow.

Ryoma waited patiently for Momo to get on with it and say something.

“Has Urameshi come by yet?” Momo finally asked. Ryoma shook his head. “You wanna go look for him?”

Ryoma nodded. Momo grinned and hopped off his bike.

“Lead on,” he said.

They walked side by side, Momo towing his bike along beside them. Echizen led them to the park Yusuke usually lurked in. Nothing. They checked the arcade ten blocks over, where Yusuke had wasted a few of Ryoma’s afternoons losing tragically at everything but the fighting games. Nothing. They checked on the rooftop of the Nagatori building whose fire escape was easy to scale. Nothing. They checked the storm drain, under the bridge, behind the shopping center, around the skate park, they even swung by his school and checked the grounds there.

Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, and nothing.

Ryoma’s last guess was the burger shop near the city center Yusuke had recommended to him once. Besides, the sun was setting and both of their stomachs were growling audibly.

Momo offered to pay, which was good, because Ryoma was more than willing to pull out the kouhai card to save his meager pocket change.

The girl at the counter was just a little older than them, and had on one of the ridiculous uniforms that the fast food joint workers in Japan wore, complete with a stupid little hat.

“Welcome to Freshness Burger, home of the freshest burgers! What would you like?”

“Six number fours and two number sixes please!” Momo replied, ignoring, as Ryoma was, the tittering of the other waitresses. “And two sodas!”

“Okay! Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

“Or me!” said another, too much tittering a chatter from her coworkers. 

“Well,” said Momo, leaning closer to conspire with the waitresses. “I just wondered, if you ladies get to know the people who come in here?”

“Definitely! It’s very important to get to know your customers!” said the enthusiastic woman from before, butting to the front of the gaggle of waitresses. She reminded Ryoma of the loud one who was alway screaming at tennis club. Far too loud. 

“Absolutely,” Momo agreed. “Actually, one of my friends is one of your regular customers. He recommended we come here. I wondered if you know him.”

“What’s his name? I’m sure one of us knows him,” the loud girl asserted again. 

“His name is Yusuke Urameshi?” 

Ryoma looked up at his senpai, startled. All the times he had been looking for Yusuke, he had never asked after him. Which was probably foolish, now that he thought about it. He pulled down his hat as the girl answered.

The girl, actually all of them, Ryoma noticed, looked flummoxed and a bit frightened. It was a reaction that Momo had gotten used to today. Momo flashed her a winning grin. “I figured you girls would know.”

“What do nice boys like you want with Yusuke Urameshi. You’re not one of those kind of boys, right?” someone said.

“I haven’t seen him in a while,” their waitress said, actually helpful. “He’s usually in here once a week or so.” 

It was the same news they’d been hearing all day. 

“Didn’t he get hit by a car?” 

“What?” Ryoma said, interrupting Momo’s conversation and focusing on the bespeckled girl who’d said something. 

“Hit by a car?” Momo prompted.

She nodded. “Yeah, it must’ve been a week ago now. I heard it was pretty serious. Urameshi jumped out to save a little kid. It surprised everybody, a thug like him.”

“I heard he died!”

“He’s not dead,” said a voice behind them. 

Ryoma turned. The speaker was a tall boy in a blue jumpsuit with carrot orange hair. 

“Urameshi’s too stubborn to die in some stupid car accident. Doctor's made a mistake,” the very tall boy said.

“It's still pretty serious,” said another boy, clearly the orange giant’s friend.

“I-is he okay?” Momo asked, looking slightly ill.

The other boys looked away. The orange haired one glared hard at the floor and clenched his fists.

Ryoma felt an iron band wrap around his heart and squeeze.

“He hasn’t woken up yet. Doctor’s said he might never.”

Ryoma felt a like he was going to pass out, or throw up. He couldn’t really decide which. His stomach flipped and flopped. He couldn’t get any air. There was a loud ringing in his ears.

He had been worried, but he’d never even thought of this.

“Here you go!” the loud server said as she slid over their order, seemingly unaware of the atmosphere strangling them.

Momo looked surprised to see their food.

“Th-thanks,” he said as he pulled the tray off the counter. He took one look at Ryoma, and put a strong, guiding hand on Ryoma’s shoulder. He led him to a booth.

Pushing him down onto the bench, Momo put his big hand on the back of Ryoma’s neck.

“Deep breaths, okay? I’m gonna get you your drink. Just- breathe okay.”

Ryoma nodded and took in a few gulps of air. He felt a numbness settling over him, which was reassuring because he didn’t know what to think. He tried not to, tried to focus only on breathing - it had never been so hard before. 

Momo was coming back. The other guys, the ones from behind them in line, with all the information and the distracting hair, the ones who’d told them what happened to Yusuke, followed him and crowded in around the table. They were talking, but Ryoma couldn’t really hear them through the ringing in his ears. It was all muted, an echo from far away or through water. 

“...keeping him at home?”

“Yeah, his mom is…”

“I mean, I dunno if we’re friends…”

“How do you…had friends.”

“I was gonna swing by later.”

“Can I come with you?” Ryoma asked, finally having enough pieces. It was the first thing he’d actually understood since he’d heard about the car accident.They were going to go see Yusuke. He wanted to go. He had to go too. Had to see for himself that Yusuke was alright, was alive. 

The others seemed surprised. The orange haired one’s squinty eyes widened and seemed flummoxed by his enthusiasm. “Uh, sure, I guess?” Ryoma stood up, ready to leave. “Wh-right now?”

“Yes, please,” he said, not really asking. He turned to leave. Momo called after him, but got up to follow when it was clear Ryoma wasn’t turning back, as the boy knew he would. There was a bit of a scuffle behind him, but by the time he reached the door, the others had fallen into step behind him. He turned around and raised and eyebrow at the orange haired one.

“Uh, his house is this way,” the giant said, pointing over his shoulder. Ryoma nodded, waiting for the other boy to take the lead. It wasn’t like he knew where they were going. Momo got his bike from where he parked it, and the other boy took the hint and started walking, his gaggle of assorted friends chiming in around him like a pack of puppies. 

They walked a quietly for few blocks, before the three puppies split off from the group.

“Hey, we’ll see you tomorrow, okay, Kuwabara?” one asked before they left. The carrot-top nodded and waved them off.

The neighborhood got rougher the farther they walked. Shops got less high end and started to have bars on their windows, paint started peeling, and the people looked meaner. Soon, the clothing and shoe shops disappeared, replaced with junk electronics, convenience, and pawn shops. Nearly every alley had people loitering near their mouths, smoking and tossing dice, glaring at the outside world. 

The mood was subdued as they kept walking. At some point on the trip, Momoshiro introduced himself and Ryoma to still mostly silent redhead, who introduced himself in kind. “I’m Kazuma Kuwabara, the number one punk of Sariyashki Jr. High!” he said. 

Momo smiled and nodded, trying to look enthused, but he mostly looked confused as to why that would be a good thing.

Kuwabara didn’t notice though. He just turned to Ryoma and asked, “So how did you meet Urameshi?”

Ryoma just pulled his cap down and said, “Tennis.”

His answer seemed to throw the other boy off so much that he didn’t have anything else to say. That suited Ryoma just fine. He wasn’t really up to talking yet.

Eventually, they came to a block full of run down apartments. Kuwabara led them to one door, seemingly at random, on the ground floor, close to the road. Momo locked up his bike, since it was clear that this had been their destination. 

Kuwabara knocked, but no one answered. The red head’s brow furrowed and he tried the door itself.

It wasn’t locked. He put his head inside and called, “Hello? Atsuko-san? You in here?”

There was no answer. He went in anyways, Ryoma and Momoshiro right behind him.

The house was in disarray. There was trash everywhere and an unmade futon in the middle of the main room floor. Kuwabara tisked in disappointment.

“Hey, Atsuko-san! You here?”

Still no answer. The older boy stepped over the mess, looking around at the disarray with a stony look on his face that got worse the more he surveyed. Ryoma followed with trepidation as Kuwabara headed in. 

Kuwabara had his back to them still when he cursed and pulled out his mobile. He called one number, but clearly didn't get an answer, because he cursed again and hung up, before dialing another number.

He had better luck this time.

“Hey, Keiko, it's Kuwabara,” he spoke into the mobile. A female voice answered, tinny and indistinct across the connection, “Yeah, hey. I'm at Urameshi’s place. Atsuko's not here.”

The other voice got higher pitched and upset, and Kuwabara just nodded along, “I know. He's not supposed to be alone. I don't know where she went… yeah, I’ll wait”

He hung up with a heavy sigh and went back into the living room. Ryoma heard him grumble as he picked up some of the trash. Momo offered to help, and the two of them set about making the apartment livable. 

Ryoma did not help. He had been looking for Yusuke for days. Dithering wouldn’t help.. 

It didn’t take long to find him now. Behind the closed door, lying tucked into bed like he was sleeping was his friend.It looked like he hadn't moved in the days since Ryoma had last seen him. He went in and knelt down beside the other boy, mind still buzzing a white noise of disbelief. 

He couldn’t bear to watch the unnatural stillness of his friends expressive face, or the slow, nearly unnoticeable rise of his chest, so Ryoma spent the time looking around Yusuke’s barren room, out the pitiful view from the window into the neighbor's apartment wall, and into the open wardrobe with very few clothes in it; anywhere but the near lifeless body in front of him. Yusuke didn't look right. He was pale and still and it made Ryoma’s chest tight. But he couldn’t leave. 

Sometime later, a girl in a blue school uniform with brown hair cropped short whirled into the apartment. She had an armful of groceries and sighed heavily when she saw the state of the house, despite the two bags full of trash Momo and Kuwabara had already collected. She put the grocery bags on the kitchen counters and joined Ryoma in Yusuke’s room.

Ryoma looked over his shoulder at her. She had a hand clenched in front of her chest and looked simultaneously frustrated and sad.

“I'm sorry,” she offered. Ryoma wasn’t sure what she was talking about and his confusion must’ve been obvious because she elaborated. “His mom hasn't been coping well. She was supposed to call me if she needed to leave,” she looked Ryoma in the eye and mustered up a smile. “You must be Ryoma” she said. Ryoma nodded. “He mentioned you a bit. It was so great that he had made a friend.”

Her voice had wobbled there at the end, and she had to turn away. Ryoma understood the feeling, as he had to swallow thickly when he turned back to the bed. 

Nothing. Not a hint of life. If it hadn't been for the slight rise and fall of his chest, Ryoma would have thought Yusuke was dead.

He wouldn't have even known.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, waiting for Yusuke to wake up, get up, do something, but it was getting dark by the time Momoshiro interrupted, knocking on the door frame and calling Ryoma’s name. Ryoma looked up in askance.

“Keiko-chan cooked us some soup. You didn't eat lunch. You should have some.”

Ryoma wasn't hungry, but he knew Momoshiro was right. He stood, his knees popping in protest from sitting so long. 

Keiko had made some sort of kakitama-jiru soup, clear broth with eggs and some chopped scallions. Ryoma excepted the bowl she handed him with a muted “thank you”, and returned to Yusuke’s room to eat.

The others followed him. Keiko walked in like she owned the place, comfortable in Yusuke’s space in a way that Kuwabara and Momoshiro clearly weren't. She closed up the wardrobe and the blinds, the sun was setting, then took a seat on Yusuke’s opposite side, her feet tucked beneath her, posture perfect. Momo collapsed, cross legged, next to Ryoma and bumped shoulders with him reassuringly, while Kuwabara occupied the whole door jam leaning on the wood, filling the space with his too-broad-for-a-middle-schooler frame.

They ate in silence. They didn't have much to talk about. The only common link between them was lying unconscious between them.

“Thank you,” Momo said after he'd slurped down the rest of his soup, “It was delicious.”

Ryoma nodded in agreement, even though he'd mostly been stirring his soup around. He took a bite, so as not to be insulting, but Keiko wasn't really eating either. She set her soup aside with a sigh.

“You're welcome. It was good of you to come by. Yusuke doesn't have many friends. I didn't see you at the wake,” she said, a question in her voice.

Ryoma looked up at her sharply from where he had been looking down aimlessly at his soup.

“The wake?” he asked, probably more harshly than she deserved.

Keiko looked surprised.

“Yes. They held one here after the doctors declared him dead. We all thought he was gone. They didn't realize their mistake until later.”

Ryoma felt sick.

Momo didn't look much better.

“We didn't know about it,” he said, “We didn't even know about the accident until today.”

Keiko gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth in surprise.

“Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know.”

Momo held up his hands, placating.

“It’s okay! It's not your fault,” he said.

But it wasn't okay. Ryoma really was going to throw up this time. He got up abruptly, excusing himself and walked quickly to the bathroom he'd noticed when they'd arrived.

He closed the door behind him and grasped the porcelain sink with hands that shook. He took a few deep breaths as he hung his head over the basin, hair falling into his eyes.

He felt shaken, like a rug had been pulled out from under him. Yusuke was his age. The older boy had seemed so invincible, and now he might not wake up ever again.

He gripped the sink so hard his knuckles turned white. There was a weight on his chest, pushing all the air from his lungs.

Then, as suddenly as it came, it lifted.

Ryoma couldn’t explain it. It was as if there was someone whispering in his ear with absolute certainty, that everything was going to be alright.

_Don’t worry, kid. I'll be back soon._

Ryoma looked up, looked around, but he was alone. There was no one in the bathroom but him. No hand on his shoulder, nothing. He could have sworn…

He shook his head, turned back to the sink and splashed some water on his face. The pipes rattled and creaked, but the water that came out was cool and clear. It felt like waking up.

Ryoma went back out into the main room. Momo was helping do the dishes as he, Keiko, and Kuwabara talked.

“... and who knows if he'll ever wake up again,” Keiko was saying, hands clasped round a steaming cup of tea.

“He will.”

All eyes turned to Ryoma and his declaration. He wasn't sure how, but he all of the sudden felt like he knew. He looked across the room, through the open bedroom door, to where Yusuke lay.

He just knew.

“How-are you sure?” Momo asked, startled as he put down the bowl he'd been scrubbing, “I mean, I just don't want you to get your hopes up. The doctors say…” he trailed off at Ryoma’s stare.

Slowly, the tennis prodigy let a smile curve onto his face. He felt elated and triumphant. He wasn't going to question it. He picked up his tennis bag and swung it over his shoulder before looking up from under his hat at the three people staring at him and grinned.

“Mada mada dane,” he said in a tone that booked no argument.

Slowly, after feeling the surety exuding from the young freshmen, the others each took a breath and lost some of the tension around their eyes. 

Ryoma met Keiko’s eye, matched her scared, tired look with his own. She saw the confidence there, and even though he was younger than her, even though she didn't know him at all, she believed him.

She smiled back.

Ryoma and Momo left shortly after, giving over their mobile numbers to Keiko and Kuwabara, extracting promises that they would call if anything changed. The walk home was quiet, but not in the same heavy, devastating way it had been. The city, even in the neighborhood they were in, felt quiet and at peace around them. In fact, that night, Ryoma slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

Everything was going to be okay. Yusuke had told him so. He wasn't sure how, but he just knew.

Yusuke would be back.

-

Ryoma still beat the stuffing out of Momo when they played the next day, but this time, both boys grinned throughout. The other Regulars let out a breath of relief. Their freshman seemed to be back on form.

Until Inui broke out his Juice again. No one could be on top form after that.

He still wasn’t feeling all that good when he was walking home. Inui Juice™ was quickly becoming his least favorite thing about Seigaku.

-

His mom was still in when he woke up the next morning. She asked after Yusuke, and this time, Ryoma was able to give her a smile and let her know the other boy would be back soon. She smiled, relieved, and even gave him a ride to school.

-

The next few days flew by. Ryoma didn't know how he had gotten so far behind on his school work, but it felt like all of the sudden there was a mountain of it. 

Also, the prefectural tournament was coming up, and tennis training had taken on a new level of ferocity. Ryoma felt his legs turn to jelly only to freeze overnight. He hadn’t been this sore since training for the Junior tournaments he had done in America. To think, he’d thought Junior High tennis would have been easier.

One of the more interesting side effects of spending so much time training with the other regulars was that Ryoma was actually starting to get to know them. It started with knowing their game play, because of course it had, but he was starting to get to know them as people as well. They were all older than him, obviously, but that had never intimidated Ryoma in the way it seemed to do to his classmates.

He had quickly come to the conclusion that they were all insane.

Although, Momoshiro aside, he wouldn’t say they were friends yet. Most of the upperclassmen seemed to look at him as some kind of pet or something. Kikumaru-senpai was the worst. He seemed to have an affinity for trying to squeeze the life out of Ryoma. He didn’t mind so much when they bought him food, which happened occasionally, but mostly it made him long wistfully for Yusuke, who was more likely to put him in a headlock than give him a hug.

Speaking of Yusuke, Ryoma received regular reports via text message from Keiko. They all said vaguely the same thing.

_“Still hasn't woken. I'll keep you informed.”_

_“Nothing yet. Maybe tomorrow? I'll let you know.”_

_“No change.”_

Ryoma didn't let himself get discouraged, even if each text had him frowning down at his phone. He had gone back by Yusuke’s place twice more, each time finding it in disarray. It was never as bad as it had been his first visit, but he was mostly sure that that was do more to Keiko than Yusuke’s illustrious mother.

Ryoma still hadn't seen her, but he thought less of her every time he went by Yusuke’s place.

Then, one morning on his way to school, Ryoma’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He readjusted his grip on the back of Momo’s jacket, being careful not to unbalance the bike he was hitching a ride on, and got his phone out of his pocket.

_“I think today might be the day. Just a feeling.”_

“What is it?” Momoshiro asked, raising his voice and looking over his shoulder to be heard over the wind racing by.

“Nothing,” Ryoma replied, putting his phone back in his pocket. Keiko had said such things before to no avail. Ryoma knew better than to get his hopes up.

-

The next day was Saturday. Ryoma’s only plans for the day had been to swing by Yusuke’s in the afternoon, but Momoshiro showed up at just just before he was going to leave to take him to lunch.

“Why?” Ryoma asked.

“Eh, Echizen is so heartless. Can't your senpai want to enjoy a beautiful day with you?”

Ryoma tried to close the door in his face, but Momo stopped him and dragged him along.

Kikumaru, Kawamura, and Fuji were waiting for them at the shabu-shabu place near the school. It was pretty cheap, and a little run down, but Momo swore up and down that it was delicious. Ryoma supposed he couldn't really complain. He wasn't buying after all.

They picked a spot by the windows. Ryoma watched as Oishi-senpai tried, without success, to try and stop Kikumaru-senpai from flailing about in his chair as the redhead described the trick one of his older brothers had played on him. Ryoma was too busy trying to duck to really pay attention.

The food came. Ryoma hadn't been to a shabu-shabu place since returning to Japan, so he mostly watched the others for a bit until he got the hang of it. The upperclassmen talked amongst themselves, mentioning classmates and teachers that Ryoma didn't know, so the freshmen entertained himself by looking out the window.

Was that?

Ryoma stood up suddenly.

“Echizen?” Momo asked as the whole table looked at him. 

Ryoma didn't hear him. He was sure of it now. He raced out of the restaurant to the street.

“Yusuke!” he called out.

The figure, nearly unrecognizable in a red jacket and jeans, turned.

“Hey, Ryoma. Long time no see,” Yusuke said, cocksure grin in place.

“Yusuke…” Ryoma trailed off, not sure if his eyes were deceiving him.

Yusuke looked abashed, leaning back on his heels and scratching his cheek.

“Surprised?” he asked, still just cocky enough to be reassuring. He gave Ryoma a thumbs up, “Told you I'd be back.”

Ryoma let out a breath he felt like he'd been holding for months. He smiled back.

-

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again my friends. I have the next couple of these ready-ish. They might appear into this void that I have created. I hope that you have enjoyed what I have up. If so, please let me know. We're all alone out here. We need each other. XD
> 
> All the love in the world,  
-Moth


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